


Fever

by mylatestobsession



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylatestobsession/pseuds/mylatestobsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a virus runs rampant through the Supernatural set, will Misha and Jensen finally have the chance to talk about the mysterious events around a recent  party?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: At least: 5K
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing connected to Misha Collins or Jensen Ackles. Nor do I imply that they are anything but friends and coworkers. Also, I owe nothing connected to the song: "Fever" which has been done by many artists including Michael Buble.
> 
> Thanks to the awesome: cheshire_kitten for being my beta. :-)
> 
> This was supposed to be apart of the Dean/Cas Happy Ending Challenge on LiveJournal
> 
> **Not Finished, I'll update ASAP**

"So you finally took him home?"

There had been no time for a greeting from either one of them, leaving Jensen frowning as he stared at his self proclaimed, best friend.

"Well?" Jared asked, a wide smile on his face as he eagerly waited for the answer he already knew.

"It's not like that."

"Were you alone last night?" Jared asked, following Jensen down the hallway. He drew his lips in and tilted his head to the side, excitement dancing in his eyes. "You weren't, were you?"

Jensen sighed and stopped, trying to give the taller man a disapproving glare, but he couldn't resist that expression anymore than their fans could. He shook his head and continued walking, "You already know the answer."

"And the name of your mystery visitor was..." Jared asked, his voice rising with excitement as he trailed off at the end of the question, following Jensen one more.

Stopping in the doorway, Jensen regarded his friend before grinning. "Just a friend." He winked which made Jared cackle while bouncing up and down like an excited toddler.

"I knew it!" Jared bounded into their dressing room, causing Jensen to laugh despite himself. Turning, Jared discarded his bag onto the counter space absently, since his focus was on his coworker. "So, you took _your friend_.." He held his hands up, to make air quotes, following it with an exaggerated wink which he paired with an open mouth smile. "To your home, where he spent the night..."

"In my bed." Jensen interjected, laughing harder when Jared ran over to him and hugged him. In his enthusiasm to show his joy, Jared actually picked Jensen up and shook him. 

"So, you took him home, _finally_!" Jared yelled, raising his hands above his head like an athlete celebrating a victory. It was only then that he realized something wasn't right. "What?"

Sniffing back moisture in his nose, Jensen's gaze was lingering on his own bag, picking at the name tag on it. "Nothing happened."

Disbelief swept across his face, "Why?"

"It wasn't the right time." Jensen offered, clearing his throat.

"What does that mean?" Jared asked, pulling a chair over, so he could sit next to his friend. "What happened?"

"He had a headache." His answer had come with a little more sarcasm than he meant too, but Jared seemed to understand it without an explanation. Instead of being hurt, Jensen realized he looked worried.

"Headache as in... I'm not in the mood... or...?" Jared asked carefully, leaning away from his friend.

Jensen narrowed his eyes at Jared. "He's caught a cold..." He barely got the word out before Jared was hurrying away from him. "What?"

"You're contagious." Jared answered, covering his face with his arm.

"I am not."

"Just wait... you'll be sick next."

"I'm fine." Jensen waved his coworker off, even as he sniffled and coughed a little. He tiled his head to the side when Jared indicated to him wildly, as if silently accusing him of spreading diseases. 

"You're covered in a debilitating virus! It will spread like (a) wild fire! Production will be shut down, episodes will be delayed, fans will riot in the streets!"

Jensen knew that his friend was mostly trying to be funny, but he couldn't shake off the concern he had for their coworker now that it had come back into light.

Jared could see the concern in the slightly older man's face. "How bad is it?" He asked, moving closer to Jensen again, as if forgetting about his initial concern for his own health. 

*** 

Jensen tried to reason through his weariness. They were all tired. It was completely normal for this time of the year. There was their shooting schedule, conventions that needed to be attended, plus the normal bustle of holiday preparation.

*** 

Just as Jensen was leaving the sound stage, a sneeze tore through him. He sniffed back the moisture in his nose, which caused him to cough a little. He cleared his throat and continued down through the hallway, confident that once he got a good night’s sleep he would feel better.

He was met with a surprise when a loud barking cough broke through the space. Peering around the corner, he spotted Misha several feet away from him. 

Hurrying down the hallway, Jensen reached his coworker just in time for Misha to loose his balance. He reached out for Misha, who slammed face first into him, almost dead weight. Jensen wrapped his arms around his friend's slender frame, too concerned about his welfare to think long about the normal excitement that came along with being in this close proximity.

Now that he was that close though, he could see how ill Misha was, even through the stage make- up. His skin was pale, except the flush across his cheeks. 

Even as Misha attempted to stand, the coughing broke through him again, vibrating Jensen with the force of it.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Misha wanted to nod, thought he might have in fact. It was hard to tell. The whole world was spinning, but he wasn't sure if that was because of the medication he had taken, or the flu he had come down with. He had tried to come in and finish his scene, but now he wasn't sure he could make it.

His whole body hurt, especially his head, which felt like it was going to split in half. He just wanted to sleep ; he would lay on the floor right now if he had too. Maybe he could use Castiel's overcoat for a pillow.

Jensen didn't know what to do. It was obvious Misha couldn't stay here, but he shouldn't be on his own either. He sure as hell wasn't about to let him leave alone.

***

"I couldn't just leave him there."

Jared nodded in agreement, "of course not." The humor had gone from his mannerism, replaced by the concern he felt for their mutual friend. "What are you going to do?"

Jensen shrugged, "I have no idea. Soup, Theraflu, and crappy day time TV?"

"Well," Jared chuckled and smiled, "It's a start." He regarded his friend, who nodded in agreement. "Maybe you can make Christmas plans... or better yet, New Year's Eve plans!" He broke out into a louder laugh when Jensen waved him off. "Come on! It needs to happen. If only to resolve what happened at the party..." He wiggled his lanky body around, batting his eyes while making kissy faces at Jensen.

"Nothing happened." Jensen insisted, turning his attention to his bag once more.

"That's not what I heard." Jared answered in a teasing tone, which was met with a glare. "OK, fine! Keep your secrets!" He rolled his eyes and pretended to be hurt that Jensen didn't want to divulge, before he continued. "But that will be the same thing you say next year." He clapped his hands on Jensen's shoulders before yanking him back and forth. "If you don't speak up and say something."

"No matter what I do, or do not say right now, nothing is going to happen." Jensen answered, which was the truth. "I'll worry about the rest later." 

"Which is what you said last year." Jared held his hands up when Jensen looked up to glared at him once more. "It's your life."

Jensen nodded, his features softening, "Thank you." 

Jared smiled again, knowing that was as much for backing off, as it was for offering him support. "Any time." Before Jensen had a chance to react, Jared threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly. "You're the best, older but smaller, brother ever."

"Get off of me!"

"Phrases you will never say to Misha Collins." Jared answered, standing up straighter with a serious expression. His eyes slowly moved to the side, as a grin spread across his lips. He met Jensen's glare and arched his eyebrows rapidly.

Before he knew what was happening, Jensen was laughing. He shoved Jared in a way that looked harder than it actually was. Which just encouraged Jared to start a slap fight with him.

"I'm going to the store once we're done here."

"I'll go for you."

Jensen turned his attention to his coworker who had finally settled down. "You don't have..."

"I want too." Jared interjected, his expression serious again for only a moment before it changed again. "That way you can hurry back to your _Mish-aaahhh_." He laughed when Jensen threw something at him, which only encouraged him to continue. "Your pretty, pretty, Misha." He ducked away from the next thrown object and got louder. "You want to hold him, and kiss him, and make, sweet, sweet, looo..." He was cut off when Jensen nailed him in the face with a make- up applicator that still had wet foundation on it. The cream colored liquid splattered across Jared's face.

For a moment, Jensen stared at Jared in slack jaw shock, waiting for his coworker to react. To say something. 

Slowly, Jared raised his hands and brushed the make- up away. He was silent, letting Jensen stew in his own worry before he replied: "I can't wait to tell Misha what you just did."


	2. Chapter 2

He answered the door on the third knock.

Jared was on the other side with a flamboyant scarf wrapped over his nose and mouth, holding the grocery bags out towards him in greeting.

"What are you doing?"

"You're still contagious." Jared's muffled voice responded on the other side of the fabric. "Maybe worse now."

"I am not." Jensen stated with more conviction than he actually felt. He took the bags and left the door open so Jared could come in, which he did.

"Yes you are." Jared answered, looking around the entrance as he followed Jensen into the kitchen.

As if to support Jared's claim again, Jensen sneezed a few times, ending in a short coughing spell. He narrowed his eyes at the way Jared looked at him. He could read it in his best friend's expression. _I told you, you're sick._

Jensen focused on the items in the bags that Jared had picked up for him. He was glad to see a variety of medicines, fluids, and soups to nurse Misha back to health with.

"Where is he?" Jared asked, as he removed the scarf from around his neck. Jensen only now noticed that it was one of Genevieve's.

"Upstairs, sleeping, hopefully." Jensen answered as he started putting the drinks into the fridge. He paused when he noticed the way Jared was looking at him. He sighed, "Go ahead," He indicated to Jared, "Say it."

"Say what?" Jared asked, with a pretty convincing shrug of indifference.

"You know you want too."

The corner of Jared's mouth turned up in a grin, "I do." He drew in a breath and sat up straighter. "You're too shy to ask him out for a beer, but you brought him home so you can clean up his dirty tissues?"

 _I've already cleaned up worse_. Jensen contemplated, remembering how Misha had thrown up shortly after they arrived, all through the night and into the morning, and again when he had returned. 

But Jared was right. He couldn't bring himself to confess his feelings, but he was doing this. He still wasn't sure what had made him bring Misha here... to his house...

"Please... _please_.... promise me, you will tell him soon." Jared pleaded, gazing at the slightly older man. He could see the apprehension in his features. It still boggled his mind, how someone who was so dynamic on TV could be so unsure of himself in every day life.

*

He felt like he had slept forever, and yet, Misha was sure he could sleep more. He felt a foreign sense of physical weakness as he struggled to sit up, and immediately, he came to regret it. Nausea rose up in his throat and it took all of his strength, which there wasn't a lot of, to neither vomit again or pass out.

Misha would have gladly stayed in bed, but it was slowly dawning on him that he wasn't in his own room. On the bright side, he knew where he was. He felt he should seek out his friend and at least offer some thanks.

But he needed a bathroom first, because his resolve to keep his stomach fluids down was crumbling.

Once he was done, he shuffled down the hallway and towards the staircase. For a moment, their voices were so distant, Misha thought he was hallucinating them.

 _Please...please.... promise me, you will tell him_.

Jared Padalecki, he shouldn't be surprised that the youngest of their trio was here. Hope might have made his heart beat quicker, if it wasn't already doing just that. He couldn't have been talking about...

As quickly as he could muster he started down the stairs, dizziness seizing him now and then, causing him to clutch the railing for support. He took a seat halfway down, unable to finish the descent. He ached to know what was being discussed, to be a part of their normal banter.

The conversation must have moved to a humorous topic, by the sound of their voices. 

"Misha loves kale." Jensen was saying.

"He does?" Jared had answered.

"And you call yourself a friend." 

"A friend, not a minion." Jared corrected.

"Are the two mutually exclusive?" Jensen's answer had brought a small, satisfied smile, to Misha's lips before he leaned his head against the railing; fighting the fatigue that was gripping him.  
Jared's voice broke through the fog that was settling over his mind. "You have too!"

He couldn't make out Jensen's response, but Jared seemed to approve. He seemed to believe it was about time that Jensen did what ever they were talking about.

"It's not like Misha is going to hate you, if you tell him you have a crush on him."

For a moment, he wasn't sure which was more startling. How close Jared's voice suddenly sounded, or what he had just heard. There had always been this sort of undercurrent of attraction, but Misha had never dared think it might have been anything more than a bromance. Even with what had happened a few days ago between them at the party. Even just this morning he had been trying to convince himself that it had been a fluke. Surely nothing that would have ever been repeated... 

"If anything, knowing him, he would probably take it as a compliment." Jared was saying as he moved closer to where Misha was already. 

"Don't you want to start off the new New Year right?"

Forcing his body to move quicker than it wanted too had been a bad idea. It had worked though, Misha was back in Jensen's bedroom before _J2_ had a chance to see him. His head was swimming, his balance shot, and he threw up on himself the second he stepped into the bathroom.

The world spun, his vision blacked, and he fell into the wall. Sliding to the floor, he pressed his warm face into the cool bathroom tile. But he had heard, through, all of that, what Jensen had said in response.

He must have dozed off, because he woke up suddenly. He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but he had a feeling it wasn't a significant amount of time. Some how his body hurt worse now, as he gingerly pushed himself into an upright position.

For only a moment, Misha worried about what he was going to do. But then a thought struck him, and despite the sickness he was feeling, he knew what he was going to do. Because he knew what Jensen had said, that he wanted to tell him about his feelings.

And his plan brought a smile to his features.

But first, he would need to clean up his mess.

*

Carefully, Jensen opened the door to his bedroom and peered in. 

His first glance showed him exactly what he had expected. Misha was sprawled across his bed, lying on his stomach, just as he had left him; sound asleep.

It was only as he pulled the door back closed, that he realized the one glaring difference.

Jensen pushed the door open wider this time and really gave the slightly older man a once-over. He then realized he was correct.

When he had helped Misha into bed originally, he had been clad in the beloved garments of a fictional angel named Castiel. A white dress shirt and dark colored slacks, both of which were too big for him, and a backwards tie. The wardrobe department had given him a pass when they saw how sick Misha had been.

But that was not what he was wearing now.

He knew that dark colored undershirt and he definitely knew those boxers, because they were his. Misha had gone into Jensen's bureau and redressed himself, while he had been downstairs talking to Jared.

The thought, of all those different elements, sent a familiar shiver of excitement through him. Misha had been naked. Misha had been naked in his bedroom. Misha had been naked in his bedroom, because he was putting on Jensen's own clothes.

Jensen suddenly wished Misha was awake and healthy, so he could call him a bastard.

The soft rustling of bedding as Misha shifted, pulled Jensen from his thoughts. The Massachusetts native coughed, thankfully not has hard as before, and drew in a deep breath. "How's Jared?"

Even as Jensen stared at the back of his coworkers head, he felt that Misha was grinning at him. Flustered and panicked, Jensen couldn't help but worry about how much Misha had heard. "Did we wake you up?"

Now Misha was smiling, his eyes still closed as he imagined the way Jensen looked right now. "No."

Jensen nodded and looked to the floor, afraid of what he needed to ask. "I was worried..."

"That I heard what you were talking about?" Misha guessed. Stiffly, he pushed his upper body up, braced on his arms. He coughed more, hanging his head as air burst through his mouth and shook his body. When he finally stopped, he looked to Jensen, half smiling when he saw that his coworker had run over to the side of the bed. "I heard enough." He answered, his voice hoarse. A reflective look swept over his features, "Everything.... or nothing." He cleared his throat, coughed a little more and finished, "Depends on what you want?"

"What I want?" Jensen asked.

"What do you want me to have heard?" Misha offered, unnerved about how much even this little activity tired him. He felt like he couldn't sleep enough.

Jensen was surprised by the response, which showed on his face. "Is this a prank?"

A mixture of coughing and laughing came then, as Misha settled back into the bed. "I can be serious about this, if you want me to be."

"I think you drank too much cold medicine." Jensen offered, hearing how strained his own voice was, which made him feel more anxious.

"If that's what you want." Misha murmured, moving so he was once more looking away from Jensen.

In the silence that followed, Jensen believed Misha must have gone back to sleep. He stared at his friend for a few moments, watching the rise and fall of his back with each raspy breath. Just as he turned and walked away, he heard Misha's voice again. It was thick with the build- up of mucus in his respiratory system.

"Thank you..." a cough broke the sentence, "for helping me..."

Jensen smiled, "Anytime Mish."


	3. Chapter 3

Sleep was avoiding him. Jensen shifted into a new position on the couch and tried to relax. Why now, did his couch fail him? How many times had he accidentally taken naps in this exact spot? His body cradled in the plush padding of the cushion. But not now, when he needed it the most.

Distantly, he heard the creaking from movement upstairs. The sound cut through his consciousnesses, which made his body tense and alert. He wasn't frightened of the sound, because he knew who it was.

But that certainty was almost as unnerving as the thought of a stranger would have been.

He got off of the couch, shuffling wearily towards the staircase, before climbing up. Jensen stopped at the top and listened. The footsteps came closer and finally stopped next to him. "You should be in bed."

Misha's face was still full of the sickness that had left him bedridden. His eyes blood shot with dark bags beneath them. His skin was a sickly color, except across his cheeks. Even as he stood there, he coughed hard, even the normally crisp blue of his eyes looked foggy and distant. 

More importantly, he looked as exhausted as Jensen himself probably felt.

He was wearing more of Jensen's pajamas and was wrapped in a blanket. "Funny..."

His voice still sounded different, Jensen noted.

"I was thinking the same thing about you."

Jensen rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the general direction of his bedroom. "You're sleeping there remember?"

"So?" Misha smiled when he saw the alarmed look his answer was greeted with. "It's a fairly large bed." He continued, unable to resist even with how poorly he felt, trying to sound casual about the topic. "Plenty of room for a strapping Texan I might know."

His heart felt like it had jumped into his head and was pounding so hard it was making his skull flex in and out like in a cartoon. He struggled for a response and finally just pulled the blanket Misha was wrapped in. "I don't think Genevieve would like that." Jensen replied, managing a pretty convincing smile before he added: "You should get more sleep."

Misha actually whined. He stomped one foot and pouted, "It's boring up here."

"Turn on the TV."

"Come in and keep me company."

He wanted too, so badly. Even if it was a slightly different scenario than he would have imagined if he ever dared to do so. 

"I need to get some sleep." Jensen stated, trying not to look at Misha, but he did anyways. Was there disappointment in that expression? No, there was no way...

"You can't sleep in your own room?" Misha asked. "Or do you expect me to actually believe that sleeping on a couch, is better than a big comfy bed?"

And then the asshole had pouted. The floor creeked under him, as Misha moved closer to Jensen, leaned in towards him, and stuck his bottom lip out. He gazed at Jensen through the tops of his eyes, the expression sad and longing despite the obvious weariness. 

"I promise I won't grope you... _too much_."

"I've slept many times on that couch." Jensen mumbled, knowing that it was lame. He didn't want to look at Misha and see how that stupid sentence had affected him. "Besides... I might catch your cold."

"That's your best excuse?"

His gaze moved abruptly to the slightly older man, coughing a little as he realized that his coworker was neither mad, nor truly sad. It was still disappointment.

"You're already sick." Misha commented then.

Jensen couldn't even protest. There was a box of tissues, an open bag of cough drops, and a little waste basket downstairs next to the couch to betray whatever he might want to conjure now. "It's nothing, just one of those 24 hour bugs."

"Sure."

"It is." Jensen insisted, even as he wondered why he was resisting so much. Maybe because he didn't really believe it was happening. Maybe Misha was confused or something, dopey from all the medicine he was taking. He could be hallucinating or something. Anything was possible, except that Misha could honestly be interested in him.

Or maybe he was. He had taken a little more medication than he had meant too...

"No, I believe you." Misha insisted, turning and walking towards the doorway to Jensen's own bedroom.

Jensen's heart was beating hard in his chest, as he watched Misha going to his room, to sleep in his bed. The feeling increased when he felt the tug on his arm, where the blanket he was still holding onto, pulled at his arm. Misha had stopped and was peering over his shoulder at his fellow actor.

Without thinking much about it, Jensen crossed the few steps to were Misha was. His head was spinning, and he was so distracted, that he nearly ran into him in the process. He stopped, right next to the slightly older man, invading his space.

Misha smelled like sickness, stale sweat, and cold medicine; which some how didn't matter now. "Now that's more like it."

Jensen gave his coworker his best disapproving glance, before shooing him away, an action that just made Misha laugh; which quickly turned into coughing.

Standing next to his bed now, Jensen watched as Misha carefully crawled back into bed. His stomach clenched and he swore Misha was taunting him even with how ill he obviously was. He swallowed back the dry tension in his throat and spoke when Misha seemed to be comfortable.

"Do you need anything?"

Misha smiled, shivering when he felt the gentle caress of the blanket as Jensen covered him again. There was a wave of cool air as the fabric settled over his body. "You in this bed with me."

"Not going to happen while you are sick." He realized what he said, the same instant Misha reacted to it.

"So you would..."

"Good night." Jensen cut in quickly.

"You still won't be working tomorrow."

"I have too." Jensen answered softly, a sudden impulse struck him. He moved his arm carefully, bringing it down around his secret crush, so he could brush his fingers against his stubble covered cheek.

Misha smiled, chuckled and coughed, as he turned to look at his friend. "You won't be staying if you go."

***

Of course, Misha had been correct.

His throat hurt from the force of his coughing. Struggling to an upright position, Jensen wrapped his arms around his stomach as he continued gagging and choking. He managed to bring up some mucus, which he spit into a the garbage can next to him.

And just like the night before, Jensen heard movement in his direction. After a few moments, he looked up, and found Misha standing near the couch. He laid back, keeping his eyes on the other man in the room. He waited then for what he expected was an: _I told you so_ , but it never came.

Silently, Misha walked over to him. Yanking back the blanket, he stepped over Jensen's outstretched legs, and struggled onto the couch. Then settled into the corner sliding down into the space, stretching his legs over Jensen's, sighing in a content manner, he pulled the blanket over himself, and smiled at Jensen. "The silver lining in all of this, is, we can at least be sick together."

 _No more excuses_.

Misha opened his eyes when he heard the soft gasp from the slightly younger man. Under the comforter they were now sharing, Misha had slid his hand onto Jensen's foot. His fingers had crept over Jensen's leg, until he had reached his calf. He wrapped his hand around the strong muscle, rubbing his thumb across it.

The question was obvious in those green eyes. And the answer was just as simple.

"We touch each other all the time." Misha relayed, closing his eyes. "I've had my finger up your nose."

Jensen found himself smiling without meaning too, it was so easy to do that around Misha. He chuckled, coughed, and then laid back down. Some how, this felt natural; so much a part of their normal friendship. It was easier to play this role, than to confront the relationship he really wanted.

Misha drew in a sharp breath, his body going tense when he felt Jensen's fingers drift over his ankle. He jerked his foot away from him quickly, coughing as he tried to protest, "Not my feet."

"Why?" Jensen asked, intrigued to know why the man that couldn't keep his hands to himself, suddenly didn't want to be touched.

"Please." 

"Are you ticklish?" Jensen asked, grinning as he continued running his fingers over Misha's bare foot.

"Be nice," Misha coughed and managed one of the most heart breaking, puppy expressions, Jensen had ever seen. "It's no fun to tickle when I'm too tired to move."

"True, although it doesn't work on me."

Misha's eyes partially opened, as he looked to Jensen, "What?" Even as he asked that, his hand slide down his coworker's leg, noticing the look of enjoyment that came from that. However, when he moved his fingers over Jensen's foot, he got nothing.

Jensen faked a yawn that turned into a real one, smiled and closed his eyes. He seemed to be indifferent to what Misha was doing.

"I don't think I have ever met anyone who wasn't ticklish."

"I used to be," Jensen replied. "But it stopped around... season two maybe?"

Misha chuckled, "Jared." He shook his head slowly, even as he relaxed and closed his eyes. The warm comfort of Jensen's body heat swept over him. Sleep crept over him as he listened to the sound of his friend's breathing. "Speaking of our giant friend... has he mentioned his plans for Christmas?"

Uncertainty crept over Jensen then. Every time someone mentioned Christmas to him, he thought about the cast party they had all attended together.

"He's been picking on you too then?" Misha asked, cracking his eyes open in time to catch Jensen's gaze, nodding in confirmation of what he saw there. He smiled and closed his eyes again, "Don't be surprised. Do you think you are the only one who gets teased about it?"

"I guess I didn't think about it that way."

"As if Jared would pass up any chance to tease me about anything."

Jensen smiled, because Misha really did have a point there. "I had a little too much to drink..."

"Me too." Misha admitted softly.

"I don't think I did anything wrong?" Jensen more asked, than stated, prodding Misha for the answer he didn't really have.

"I don't think you did either."

That was neither a confirmation, nor a denial of what Jared had cryptically told him about for the last few days. It left Jensen just as baffled as before.

He wanted to ask Misha more, but when his questions were met with silence he looked and realized his friend was sound asleep again. He realized he was still happy though, even with the lingering doubt. This was the closest he had ever been to his secret crush and some how, it felt like it was only the beginning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late!

Misha had never gone back upstairs. 

When Jensen returned from another trip to the store for more supplies, he found the slightly older man exactly where he had left him, sprawled across the couch, fast asleep.

He crept into the kitchen and made some soup and tea. By the time he had come back into the living room, Misha was slowly moving into an upright position. He looked better today, Jensen noted, as he handed the older man the food and drink. Jensen started coughing, just as Misha took them from him, shaking his body and rattling the items in his hands.

Misha set them down on the floor as quickly as he could and then reached out for Jensen.

The Texan resisted at first, his body tense against Misha's touch. But when Jensen looked up, he saw the determination in the older man's eyes. He shook his head in mild protest, his coughing never ceasing.

When Misha pulled him the second time, he didn't resist. He sat down on the edge of the couch, and doubled over with the coughing. His face was red and his throat was starting to hurt. But he could feel Misha's hand on his back, comforting him, as Misha ran his other hand over his forearm.

As the coughing fit passed, he found himself sinking into Misha's arms. The hand on his back slid across with his movement and came to rest on his shoulder. while the hand on his arm slid across his front and eventually stopped on his side. His head was against Misha's chest before he even realized what was happening.

Jensen drew in a ragged breath, closing his eyes tightly when he felt Misha kiss his head, before resting his stubble covered cheek against the same spot.

"You need to take it easy." Misha whispered softly.

"I'm fine." Jensen rasped out, struggling not to cough again. "You need to get better."

Misha smiled, even as he tightened his embrace a little, before he went back to rubbing Jensen's back. "Yes I do, so I can take care of you."

"I'm fine." Jensen repeated, though softly now, as if falling asleep. His body did feel more relaxed now. "You should go back to bed."

"I am in bed." Misha offered, smiling a little as he gazed at Jensen.

"This is not..."

Misha interrupted Jensen's protest. "There is a pillow, two in fact, and a blanket. And..." Misha found himself hesitating, as nervousness gripped him. "...you're here."

Jensen looked up at the slightly older man, his eyes blurry, feeling a little light-headed but aware of what was being said. "You... really want to stay here... with me?"

Misha smiled and leaned in and kissed Jensen's warm, damp, forehead, "Yes... I really do. And to prove it..." He pulled Jensen onto the couch with him more.

"This is..." _silly_? He thought at first. _Unnecessary_? _Inappropriate_? Maybe all of the above, but mostly it had become too good to say no too. He sunk into the minimal space next to Misha and accepted the comfort of a person who was becoming easier and easier to accept as more than a friend. 

*

Misha opened his eyes and was met by a surprise - and it wasn’t only just by how empty the couch suddenly felt. For the last few days he had found Jensen waiting on him, bringing him hot cups of tea and warm bowls of soup.

But not today.

Genevieve gazed down at him, stirring a spoon in a mug, before she passed it off to him. "He wouldn't go to bed until I made you some."

The explanation didn't seem to make things any more clear. "What?"

She laughed, a soft musical sound that Jared repeatedly described as the most beautiful sound in the world. No one could argue against it, even if they had wanted too, although Misha tended to prefer another coworker’s laughter better.

"Jensen." Genevieve replied, shaking her head at him. Her tone had been light-hearted, leaving Misha half expecting her to call him _silly_. 

"Where is he?" 

"Upstairs." 

He noticed then, how her tone had changed, even her demeanor was different. It made him anxious, worried. "What's wrong?"

"He didn't want you to worry about it..."

Misha sighed and rolled his eyes. He pushed away the blanket and got up, realizing he was feeling better than he had in days. While he couldn't say he was back to normal, or even completely better, he didn't struggle as he strode across the downstairs living room and headed for the stairs.

Genevieve followed silently behind him.

They nearly ran into Jensen who was just leaving his bathroom. Misha read the answer easily, as Jensen silently gazed at him. He had gotten better, but Jensen was getting worse. With a single look and gesture, Misha ushered Jensen further into the room and to the neglected bed.

Coughing, Jensen crawled into the bed. Misha leaned over him and covered him with the blanket. From the doorway, Genevieve smiled at them. 

"I was getting some soup for Jared and wanted to see if you two needed any."

Misha turned and looked at her, "Did he get sick from us?"

"You, Jensen, Jim," she shrugged, "half the cast and crew is sick with something." She could see it, how horrible Misha felt. "It's not your fault. It's the cold season."

Her words made Misha nod vaguely before he looked to Jensen, who seemed to be sleeping. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine..." she went over to the man who was practically an additional brother-in-law thanks to the love and friendship between their coworkers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his back. "For now." She cackled in a dramatic manner then that made the corner of his mouth turn up in a small reluctant smile. "I'll take care of my man..." her eyes moved to Jensen whom Misha's had never left, "You take care of yours."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter tomorrow!

Feeling a sense of Déjà vu Jensen opened his eyes and found Misha standing over him. It was clear at first glance how much better he was doing. The color had returned to his skin, the light to his eyes. That gave Jensen a small sense of comfort.

"Do you think you can keep down some food?"

The question made Jensen look away from Misha's face, realizing then that he was offering him a bowl with steaming soup in it. He didn't really want to eat, everything else had come flying out of his mouth shortly after he had ingested it. But more so than that, he couldn't say no to Misha. 

With some effort, he struggled into an upright position, the sudden effort instantly provoking a coughing fit. 

Misha put the bowl down on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed. He didn't ask or wait for permission, but immediately moved closer to Jensen. He sat down and rubbed Jensen's back as the slightly younger man shook under the force of his coughing.

When the fit finally came to a stop, he started to lean back and realized Misha was behind him. He turned his head enough to look up at his coworker, "Hello."

"Hi."

When Misha didn't move, Jensen found himself smiling. He settled back against Misha, letting his eyes close as Misha's arms moved around him. "You look like you're doing better."

Misha leaned his cheek against Jensen's head, slightly rocking back and forth. He felt like Jensen could fall asleep in his arms, by the tone of his voice, which made him realize how much he liked that idea. "Thanks to you." 

Reluctantly he pulled away from Jensen enough to rouse him into a more alert state and reached for the bowl of soup. "Which is why you need to eat."

It had been awkward, but amusing, as Misha attempted to feed Jensen from his current position. First, scooping out the broth, before he brought it to his mouth to blow on it gently. Only then, did he attempt to feed it to Jensen. 

His efforts caused soup to dribble over Jensen, even more so when Jensen coughing and shook him. They both laughed anyways.

Finally Misha relented and gave the bowl to Jensen, having to be content with just holding his sick coworker.

"It's really good."

"I slaved all morning making that soup for you."

Jensen twisted enough to look at Misha, who almost immediately dissolved into a sheepish expression. With but a glance, Jensen scolded Misha, even as he couldn’t resist to smile at him.

"Fine, I slaved for ten minutes warming up the soup Genevieve made for us." He shrugged as if indifferent and grinned at Jensen. "It's practically the same thing."

"It's the best soup anyone has ever reheated for me." 

Misha smiled broadly, "Thank you."

"No, thank you."

He emptied the bowl to about 1/3 before he had to set it aside. Closing his eyes, Jensen leaned his head to the side, so his cheek was against Misha's chest. He drew in a sharp breath, even though it made him cough, when he felt Misha's embrace tighten. He could easily fall back to sleep just like that and thought Misha actually had, when he heard his voice.

"I could play house with you for the rest of my life."

"Really?"

Misha's movement stirred him, forcing him to wake up enough to look at the man next to him.

"Do you really need to be told the answer to that question?" Misha read the answer in those startling green eyes the moment he asked it. "You really don't remember what happened at the Christmas party?" 

Jensen diverted his eyes, nervousness gripping him, causing him to shake. He leaned back against Misha, afraid for a moment that he wouldn't be as welcomed, relieved when he was. "I don't remember _everything_." He revealed softly.

"Do you remember hitting on me?" The silence that followed his question unnerved Misha, because it told him nothing. Either Jensen did remember and was afraid to say so, or he didn't and was reluctant to learn the whole truth.

"Sort of." Jensen finally answered, searching those long analyzed memories for some overlooked detail. He remembered talking to Jared about Misha, watching as his coworker moved around the party laughing and talking with people in that easy way of his.

"Do you remember the mistletoe?"

That question had sounded strained, like Misha wasn't sure about asking it. "Which one?" Jensen asked carefully.

"Well.. the bushes in the archway."

He did remember it, suddenly better than he had before. "Jared put it there." For a moment he couldn't make himself continue. He thought instead about the gentle touch of Misha's fingertips against his arm, afraid it would be taken away from him if he confessed too much. "We were going to trap you with it."

The hand on his arm stopped as Misha obviously considered what had been revealed to him. It made a sickening tension grip Jensen, only able to relax when it moved again. Although this time, Misha spread his fingers over his forearm and held it. 

"You were going to _trap_ me?" Misha asked, emphasizing the important word in the sentence. There was no anger, or even true humor, mostly intrigue and curiosity at where the idea had come from.

"Yeah, like a sigil to trap a demon?" Jensen offered, feeling suddenly like a member of their own fan base.

"Was it supposed to be a joke?"

"Not entirely." Jensen stole a glance at Misha and was met with blue eyes that told him one thing, to continue telling him what had happened. "It had made more sense then."

"It usually does."

"Things get a little blurry then."

"Well..." Misha started, smiling a little more at Jensen. "Jared came over and asked me to go to the hallway for a moment."

"And you just went?"

"I was a little drunk, so I didn't question his motives until I saw the archway." 

"There was a lot of mistletoe." Jensen comment, he remembered laughing with Jared about the amount of the Christmas garnish that they used before Jared had gone to get Misha.  
"That doesn't really accurately describe the amount. It was _everywhere_." Misha raised his hands so he could motion with them as he described what he had seen. "You must have cut down a whole forest. I don't even know where you would find that much at that time of night. It started by one side of the floor and completely covered the archway, all the way to the other side. It was on the ceiling, on pictures..." The more he described, the more both of them laughed, which hurt Jensen’s sore muscles; but was worth it all the same.

"There..." Misha gasped, as he struggled to continue. "There was even a circle on the floor."

"That was the trap." Jensen got out between bursts of laughter and coughing.

Misha leaned away from Jensen as he struggled to breathe. When they had calmed down, he continued, "I went into The Misha Trap anyways." His nose wrinkled as he watched Jensen double over with laughter.

"The Misha trap?" Jensen gasped out.

Misha shrugged, "Demon traps catch demons, so it's only logical that you would need a Misha trap to well... trap me."

"I'm surprised you didn't call it the Overlord trap."

His mouth had fallen open, as Misha gazed at Jensen in amazement. "You are a genius."

"I shouldn't encourage you." Jensen replied, as he settled back against the headboard, more next to Misha now than on him, as he had been before.

"You should always encourage me." Misha softly chided, pleased even though Jensen only shook his head in response. Some how, the smile that came with it seemed to express how he really felt, more than words could have.

"So what did I do next?"

"You don't remember what _you_ did next?"

Jensen shifted in his spot, "I recall hugging you." He offered hesitantly.

"Oh you didn't just hug me." Misha replied. "Your arms came around me like this..." He slid his hands over Jensen then. One over his back, while the other went over his chest. He looped them around his upper body, pinning Jensen's arms down as he pulled his coworker closer.

His throat felt tense, as his whole body felt like it was throbbing with every beat of his heart. Jensen didn't remember touching Misha quite that slowly, it had more been a haphazard bear hug, though their bodies ended up in the same fashion. It was very enjoyable anyways, it made his skin tingle. "I do remember that."

"And you kissed me." He brushed his finger along the crook of Jensen's neck, his eyes lowering to where they touched his skin. Misha licked his lips when his coworker gasped softly. "Right here." He leaned in then and kissed the spot softly.

Jensen's shifted in his spot again and whispered: "I didn't do that."

"You're right, that was just an excuse to kiss you." Misha met Jensen's gaze and grinned in a mischievously manner. "But that was not the only thing you did."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally!

"What else?"

"I don't remember everything," Misha started, lowering his eyes and away from Jensen. "Does that make me a bad person? In that moment, when something so magnificently important happens, and I can't remember?"

"No, it doesn't..." Jensen murmuered, because in the back of his mind he thought he knew what Misha was talking about. The hair on the back of his neck rose, because he thought that had been a dream. Some sweet, alcohol induced vision of what he could have done, but surely had not.

"Maybe this will help..." Misha cleared his throat and then leaned in close and whispered: "Never knew how much I loved you..." He wasn't through the whole lyric, before he got the reaction he was hoping for.

"No..." Jensen winced, "No, I didn't really? No...."

"Never knew how much I cared..." Misha continued anyways, grinning more.

"I was a little drunk." Jensen tried.

"Me too." Misha offered softly, "Even when you're drunk, you still sound beautiful when you sing."

Jensen nodded, overwhelmed by how that comment made him feel. "You gave me a real fever though."

"I know," Misha said with a sigh, "I feel bad about that. If only you hadn't let me put my arms around you..." He commented, in reference to the rest of the lyric. "And all that kissing."

"We didn't kiss that much." Jensen pointed out.

"That's where we went wrong." Misha answered as he met Jensen's gaze. "Didn't you know my kisses cure everything?"

"I think we might have to test that out sometime." Jensen whispered, surprising himself by the boldness of it.

"With pleasure..."

*some days later*

The room was dark, illuminated only by the TV which he was turning down, and Christmas decorations. 

Jensen had lost track of the story line a long time ago, even though he knew it by heart. It had been a tradition to watch this, and movies like it, in his family for years. But his mind was elsewhere, content in a way he had never dreamed possible.

It was blissfully warm on the couch, Jensen had never quite got used to the cold in Vancouver. This would be the first Christmas in recent memory when he wasn't worried about the weather outside. Do your worst Mother Nature, you too Jack Frost, I have everything I need right here.

Misha stirred next to him, wiggling as he pulled Jensen closer, kissing him firmly on the head.

He hadn’t been asleep for long, Jensen had almost dozed off as well, having giving up any pretenses of watching the movie. He opened his eyes now though, not all the way, but long enough to see the living room floor.

They would have to walk around carefully, when they did manage to pry themselves from the comfort of the couch. Scattered every where were stacks of dirty dishes, empty tissue boxes, and a garbage can overflowing with crumpled tissues and empty containers of medicine.

In the center of it all, was a mass of blankets and pillows.

Jared was sprawled out in front of them, his long legs hanging over the edge of the air mattress. Genevieve had almost disappeared next to him, her slender form lost under the blankets and their sleeping dogs, except for one foot and her hand which was still clutching a tissue. 

From the corner of the room, the Christmas tree shone, lights flashing as colors reflected off ornaments and tinsel. The floor was still littered with balls of ribbons and shreds of wrappings. There were stacks of presents that no one had the energy to put away.

There was a snow covered paradise outside, visible through foggy windows, as picturesque as any holiday greeting card. It would remain pristine for days, unlike in the past years which had included snow activities of both the child and adult kind. This year, none of them had any intentions of leaving. 

Misha's whispered voice interrupted Jensen's musings. "It's almost time."

He was reluctant to leave Misha's side. It had been so heavenly, being pressed against him, listening to the steady pounding of his heart in his ears where his head was resting on his chest. Their blanket slid off his shoulder as he moved. The air outside of their embrace was much cooler than the heat from their bodies, the sudden contact making him shiver, sending a chill down his spine and arms. 

"Do you still want too?" Misha asked softly, joining Jensen in an upright position. 

He followed Misha's gaze, as it moved to the corners of his eyes. He saw the clock sitting on the table and knew immediately what Misha wanted.

In the dim light, he watched as Misha's mouth moved, counting down the seconds as they slowly ticked by. Jensen swallowed back the tension in his throat, as his hands moved around Misha, pulling him securely against his body.

The clock chimed softly, signally a new hour, a new day... a new year.

"Happy New Year." Misha whispered softly before brushing his lips against Jensen's.

Jensen smiled, "Happy New Year." Their lips met in a light kiss, even though he was still slightly worried that he had not fully gotten over his cold. "The best new year." Jensen whispered, after their mouths had parted.

"I think so too." 

He stifled laughter as much as he could, when he felt Misha's hands roaming. "Misha."

"Hmmm?" Was his response to his name being whispered, a low humming noise in the back of his throat. Each smack of Jensen's hands, only made him want touch him more.

"We have company." 

"There are other rooms in this house."

There was a burst of movement as they struggled with each other's hands. Jensen won, grabbed Misha's hands and pinned them down and into the slightly older man's lap. A move that seemed like a good decision at the time, but was quickly revealed to be a bad decision. Misha seemed to like it a little too much. He was leaning in more, non too subtly pressing his pelvis closer, even if it was against his own arms, but the suggestion was enough.

"For us or them?" Jensen whispered back, regarding his new flame carefully.

"Whatever works best for you." Misha whispered back, leaning in the rest of the way so he could snap his teeth at Jensen.

"I might still be sick." Jensen gasped softly, feeling Misha's breath on his mouth. "I could get you sick all over again."

"I think that's a risk worth taking." 

Jensen relented to the teasing touch of Misha's lips against his own. Savoring the way it felt to taste Misha's mouth, as he gripped his shirt.

He stopped paying attention to his surroundings for a moment, as Misha pulled him closer. He had been pinned between Misha and the back of the couch, but Jensen was slowly creeping over the slightly shorter man, which ended in him miscalculating his position all together.

In one quick motion, Jensen hit the edge of the couch, as he fell off of Misha. He twisted, and would have landed on his ass if Misha hadn't caught him. One leg betrayed him, as it continued moving, causing his foot to slam hard against the floor.

Breathlessly, Jensen and Misha stared at their friends who had not moved. Only one of the dogs had lifted his head and was observing them.

His body was cramping from the position he was in, half on the couch, almost sprawled on the floor, legs bent at odd angles, with Misha's arms wrapped around his torso. But he was afraid to move.

"I knew it." Jared bellowed hoarsly.

Letting out a breath, relaxing as Misha slowly lowered him to the floor.

Jared's eyes were still closed, but he no longer looked like he was sleeping, and not just because he was smiling now. His voice was husky from the cold he had caught, but it had not dampened his spirits much.

"That was so sweet.", Genevieve added, shushing Jared effectively. 

In the light from the TV, that was playing over her features, they could see her smiling as well. Her voice was still slightly distorted from her own cold.

Gene was the first one to sit up, coughing as she moved. When Jared did not follow her, she started pushing and pulling on him, "I want my New Year's Eve kiss."

As he couldn't pretend to be asleep any longer, Jared got up. They shared a kiss, but only after multiple failed attempts as they took turns coughing or sneezing on each other, which finally ended in laughter.

"I'll make some tea." Misha offered, exchanging a fleeting kiss with Jensen before he got up.

"I'll come with you." Genevieve put in quickly, when she noticed Jensen starting to offer his help.

Jensen regarded the only female in the room with concern, "Are you sure?" 

"Please, I'll have grandchildren before I get any tea if we send both of you to the kitchen together." Gene answered, grinning at Jensen. The dogs were not pleased to be moved from their comfortable positions, though only one settled in closer to Jared, while the other got up and followed Gene.

"So...." Jared started, giving Jensen a contemplative look even as he pulled his dog close, wrapping his longs arms around his furry body. "You finally took him home?"

The corner of Jensen's mouth turned up in a small grin, leaning over the edge of the couch as he watched Misha moving around in the kitchen. "Yes I did." He tore his eyes from Misha and looked to Jared, who was smiling at him. "Nothing happened though."

"That's what you said last year." Jared repeated in reference to the conversation they had only a few short days ago.

"That's not what he's going to say this year." Misha commented, winking at Jensen as he carried two mugs in.

Behind him, Gene had two more mugs.

"In all the ways I had imagined sleeping with you," Jensen commented, trying to ignore the exaggerated look of horror on Misha's face. "I mean, sleeping _next to you."_

_"You keep telling yourself that, Jen." Jared commented._

_"I can't believe the way they talk." Misha said, mostly to Gene as he took his seat next to Jensen. He rolled his eyes and then shook his head, in playful disappointment._

_"This was never how I imaged it," Jensen finished, ignoring what Misha said, indicating to their friends._

_"Me too," Misha replied casually, "I never imagined Gene would be here either."_

_Gene laughed and threw one of the pillows at Misha. "That is your half of J2..." She continued, waving her hands towards Jensen, "This is my half." She turned to Jared and did the same thing. "Stick to giving Jen, fevers, or whatever you two..."_

_Jensen laughed and covered his face, "Am I going to hear about that for the rest of my life?"_

_"Yes, definitely," Gene replied with a smile. "You give me fever," She mockingly sang, made even sillier by how congested she sounded, making them all laugh, "when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."_


End file.
